


First Night Out

by GretchenSinister



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 07:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18068771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Original Prompt: "So I totally get that Jack is pretty much the poster boy of the fandom and almost everyone loves him. I’m not that fond of him, but whatevs. But the Guardians were doing their job for years, just fine, without him. How about adventures and battles to protect kids in the time before Jack?"This is part of a  movieverse what if? in which all the Guardians except for Jack are created at around the same time, and Pitch is much older than all of them…and he was created by the Moon, too.





	First Night Out

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 8/11/2014.

“Our first night out, together!” North grins around at his companions, their forms perhaps strange to most, but ones that to him will always be none other than those of his dearest friends.  
  
“You sure you’re ready for this?” Bunny asks, playfully elbowing him in the side. “Not really you’re time of year, is it, and you lugging that hunk of wood around behind you?”  
  
“Please, Bunny, I’m sure you’ll be able to keep all of us grounded,” Tooth says with a wink.  
  
“Don’t need to fly to keep up with you slowpokes,” Bunny says, puffing out his chest. “I could beat you in my sleep.”  
  
 _Maybe you’ll have to,_  Sandy signs, feinting towards Bunny with dreamsand on his fingers.   
  
Bunny jumps away with a laugh, as North raises his hand to point toward the Moon.  
  
“Everyone! Everyone, listen, it is time to begin!”  
  
With whoops and starbursts of excitement, the four leap and soar from the simple arch of ice that forms the entrance to North’s small workshop.  
  
The night seems almost brighter than the day as they careen through it, Sandy not the only one like a shooting star.  
  
In gold and green and red they fly, while Bunny’s footfalls leave spring flowers in their wake, a pink-yellow, blue-violet trail that will bring wonder just as well as hope the next morning. Bunny knows this, just as North knows this, just as they all know that the flowers and the dreams and North’s laugh tonight will form good memories for years to come, just as they all know they themselves are the breath and substance of dreams. Even as they spread throughout the world, they feel their centers flow into each other, reassuring them that they are not alone, will never be alone, and that good will compound upon good forever. The Moon has chosen them well, they know. Perhaps they have not been told why they have been chosen, not in so many words, but they are from the world and they know they are needed. They feel the hearts and minds of children and children at heart drinking in what they have to give like dry ground welcoming water.  
  
Who does not need them? Who does not want them?  
  
Such questions have an answer the Moon could give, and will give, but not yet.  
  
And yet, if the Guardians cared to look not only into the peaceful-made houses as they passed by, but also into the dark interstices between, such an answer might they see.  
  
A lone shadow crouched under the eaves of one such peaceful house as the Guardians had left behind, wrapping his arms around himself as he stared up into the night sky, laced now with brilliant auras, the likes of which he had never seen before.  
  
More beautiful and all-encompassing than the northern lights, those trails of color in the sky were protection, love, joy–and the shadow had never seen anything so utterly not for him in all his existence.  
  
He hadn’t been made to need them, but so they hadn’t been made to heed him. They were new, so new and bright, but otherwise—so  _nearly_  like him. But they were better. They would truly protect, not just warn. They did not know the darkness within them; they did not know any reasons to rebel. So glorious were they, Pitch hardly dared to think of them as his replacements, though of course they were.  
  
“You did well,” Pitch Black said to himself, or to the Moon, the cold comfort and bitter praise in his voice making it impossible for a listener to determine who he was speaking to—but then again, no one was listening.

**Author's Note:**

> My tags from Tumblr:
> 
> #and so Pitch was pissed off and decided to try to ruin everything forever #which is bascially the devil's motivation in Paradise Lost


End file.
